


Clark Kent Who?

by Spoodlemonkey



Series: Inktober/Goretober [16]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Incompetent Bad Guys, M/M, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16157267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: Jamie’s sprawled on the pavement, watching the proceedings with a vague feeling of disbelief. He really wishes they would just hurry up with whatever they plan on doing so he can hail a cab and get to the hospital.





	Clark Kent Who?

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN AND HOCKEY MONTH! And to celebrate the first day of it, my contribution to Ink/Whump/Goretober!  
> Just a quick random piece to get it started. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. Let me know what you think! Companion piece to my Jamie/Tyler hero fic.

“You _stabbed_ him!”

“It’s not like I _meant_ to!”

Jamie’s sprawled on the pavement, watching the proceedings with a vague feeling of disbelief as the two men- no, not men, _boys_ , fuck their voices keep _cracking_ \- loudly freak out. He really wishes they would just hurry the fuck up with whatever they plan on doing so he can hail a cab and get to the hospital.

“Then what the fuck was the knife for?”

“To scare him!”

Well it had worked- Jamie certainly hadn’t been expecting the wicked looking knife waved in his face when he’d ducked through the alley behind the news building on his way home. It’s not even _dark_ out, it’s barely after five and these jackasses had been hanging out waiting to mug someone?

And if he wasn’t expecting the knife, he certainly hadn’t been expecting jackass number one to _trip_ and _stab him in the fucking thigh_ when he was handing out his wallet. It throbs in time with his heart which is still pounding despite the incompetence of his muggers. It’s bleeding sluggishly, deep but since the knife is _still in his thigh_ it’s not gushing and he’s more likely to pass out from panic than blood loss.

“We have the gun for that!” Jackass number two waves the gun in question around and even Jamie can tell from over here that it’s a prop- which had looked scary in those first few seconds before it had been stuck in his face and he’d gotten a good look at it. Then the knife had come out. To be fair, the gun probably would have been scarier at night, in the dark, where you couldn’t see the words _‘replica’_ down the side, or the shaking teenager behind it.

“So what the hell do we do now?”

“You could take my wallet and leave?” Jamie suggests. He’s ignored. _Dicks_.

“I don't know? Kill him? He’s _seen us_ , man.”

Jamie is really fucking opposed to that plan.

“With _what_? God, this looked so much easier in the movies!”  Jackass one and two are looking queasy.

“With the knife?”

All three of them look down at the knife still in Jamie’s thigh.

This is going to hurt.

He gets his hand wrapped around the handle of the knife as the pair lunge and even that jars his leg enough that he has to grit his teeth to stop from _puking_. And then hands are wrapped around his and he yells at the pain that crashes over him sharp and unforgiving and-

“Don’t pull it out!” Long fingers wrap around his wrist like a steel band, break his grip on the knife easily and he lays back panting, vision swimming as he tries to catch up. “Dude, what the fuck? Didn’t they teach you anything about knife wounds?”

And okay, he _knows_ that voice. Intimately.

“Tyler?” He groans, cranes his neck, expecting to see his boyfriend and comes face to face with one half of the cities newest superhero duos. _Stars_.

He blinks dumbly at him for a moment.

The pain filters back through the shock a moment later and he lets his head fall back against the pavement.

“What the fuck?” He grits out. Familiar, agile hands run over his body, a teasing caress- checking for _injuries_.

“Who’s Tyler? Sounds handsome.” His voice is notably different now, lower, more gravel like he’s trying to imitate _Batman_ and Jamie’s sat through the trilogy enough times to know what Tyler Seguin's Batman voice sounds like.

“Cut the crap,” he grits out, reaches out blindly and catches one of Stars hands in his own. “We are having a serious talk when we get home.”

“Hospital first for you, citizen.” His voice is light but Jamie can read the stress on his face behind his domino mask clear as day when he leans over him again. He squeezes the hand in his grip, trying to be reassuring, but its hard when all he wants is to get the _knife out of his leg_.

“Are they dead?” He asks even though he knows Stars and Stripes non lethal methods are what make the pair so popular. “Can we go? I need like, a ton of morphine or something.”

“They’re fine. Unconscious. Stripes will keep an eye on them.” A weak smile breaks across Stars face. “You’re going to hate this.”

Stars hefts him up into his arms before Jamie can ask _what_ he’ll hate. And he _does_ . It jars his leg and his vision goes spotty for a long moment. They’re striding out of the alley when Jamie’s feeling suitably back in his own body again. He’s got a strong grip on Jamie’s bulk, tucked close to his chest and Jamie’s not small by _any_ means but it’s like Stars doesn’t even _notice_ how heavy Jamie is.

“I think I’m most offended you didn’t tell me about this,” he muses, and Stars stiffens before he continues. “ _Super strength_ . I want a _full_ demonstration. In bed. That’s _really hot_.”

Stars chokes a little and adjusts his hold. They pass Stripes and the two unconscious muggers. He gives them a knowing look.

“We’ll talk about this _later_ .” Stars finally says. _Got him_ , Jamie thinks victoriously. “When you _don’t_ have a gaping knife wound.”

“Over dramatic.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” Stars grumbles.

Jamie beams.


End file.
